


Playing Games

by twofoldAxiom



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, I'm Too Lazy To Tag More, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Nook Eating, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:12:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4072897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twofoldAxiom/pseuds/twofoldAxiom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He turns to face you. “You ever heard of Sexy Mortal Kombat?”</p><p>“If you’re suggesting I dress up like Mileena and let stick your bulge in my disaster zone of a mouth-“</p><p>He shudders at the thought and you allow yourself a wolfish, tight-lipped grin that presses your fangs into your lower lip. He looks at you, and the curl of his lip now is definitely a grimace. “Fuck no; I’m not putting my dick between those teeth. Have you seen the bites you’ve left on my shoulders? Not risking it.”</p><p>“Okay, then.” You’re still grinning. “What exactly are you suggesting?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cervineghost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cervineghost/gifts).



> Written for tumblr user [clockworkeclipse](http://clockworkeclipse.tumblr.com) otherwise known as Cervineghost to the song [Joystick, by Simon Curtis](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHSmtKAGGaU)
> 
> [The playlist](http://8tracks.com/chess-and-snickers/playing-games) I used while writing.

Your name is Sollux Captor and you watch as your character on the screen is KO’d for the second time in a row, signalling one Dirk Strider as the winner of the match. You groan in defeat and put the controller down, wiping your face and taking a gulp of your Monster, flat by now, all the bubbles having fizzed out a few hours ago. You have no idea how long the two of you have been playing, but you have been keeping track of scores, and what irks you the most is that the guy who’s never actually touched a videogame in his life until after sBURB is not only ahead but is completely destroying you at this game.

Dirk, face impassive as ever, also puts down his controller and sips his own drink. “You should give up now.” He said, and you’re at least thankful that he didn’t get his auto-responder to draw up some bullshit statistics on the matter. You snort, though, wiping your mouth on the back of your arm.

“You know, as the doom guy, I’m pretty sure I should be in charge of knowing when to quit.” You snipe back, as the both of you are led back to the character select screen. “And unless _you_  feel like calling it quits right now, I could go another match.”

He seems to ponder that, or at least he leans back against the cushions of the couch and the corner of his mouth does this weird pull to the side that’s not quite a grimace or a smirk.

“I’m getting bored, if that’s what you’re saying.” He says after a while. “We should find some way to make this more interesting.”

“Like?” You ask, absentmindedly choosing your character already.

He turns to face you. “You ever heard of Sexy Mortal Kombat?”

“If you’re suggesting I dress up like Mileena and let stick your bulge in my disaster zone of a mouth-“

He shudders at the thought and you allow yourself a wolfish, tight-lipped grin that presses your fangs into your lower lip. He looks at you, and the curl of his lip now is definitely a grimace. “Fuck no; I’m not putting my dick between those teeth. Have you seen the bites you’ve left on my shoulders? Not risking it.”

“Okay, then.” You’re still grinning. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

“That mean you’re playing?” He asks first.

“Uh, yeah?” You lean back, settling into the cushions a little deeper. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He peers at you over his shades. “You don’t even know what you’re getting into.”

“Whatever it is, I’m game. You’re kinda right, playing like this gets boring after a while.” You don’t tell him that it’s because you’ve lost to him on all your best characters. Repeatedly.

But when he grins, not unlike the way you had earlier, you are suddenly very aware of why he usually has a poker face. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, and judging by the faint flush you can feel working its way down your neck, not because of fear.

“You’re sure.” He says, a little gleam in the vivid orange of his eyes. You make a point of shifting in your seat again before you answer with a nod. His face relaxes into something more natural. “Good, take off your pants.”

You blink. “What.”

“You heard me.” He licks his teeth slowly, showing off fangs that would look almost trollish if they weren’t so small. “You gotta take off your pants or we can’t play. Rules of the game, I’m going to fuck you, and if you can win the match while getting your brains fucked out, you win.”

You stare at him flatly. Behind his shades, now that he’s not looking at you over them, you can’t tell if he’s looking at your face or the jutting bones of your hips, but he’s definitely looking at you; he’s got this habit of always facing whatever he’s looking at, like a starebird. Owl. Whatever humans call them. Point is he’s staring at you behind them, and you realize you’re low-grade turned on.

Hormones are amazing. You’re nearly ten sweeps old and you can still get a little wet from your occasional fuckbuddy giving you a look and vaguely telling you he’s going to stick his human bulge inside of you. Again, you squirm in your seat, though now there are sparks around your horns as you lock the door to the block with a mental twitch of psionics. “How about you get them off me?” You suggest, your voice a little lower, a little huskier, and flick your tongue across your fangs.

He doesn’t acknowledge the lick, but he does cancel his character selection and set you to single-player mode, before standing up and kneeling in front of you. You gulp as he spreads your knees apart and you do your best not to focus on his hands as he lifts your shirt up to your waist and slides his scarred palms over your hipbones.

You look up to the screen and watch the characters banter, feeling his hands slip lower and lower until they meet the hem of your jeans. You can feel his shades and nose pressed against your belly, then his lips as he kisses down your skin, and you want to jitter one of your legs in anticipation but he’s got his elbows hooked over your thighs at the moment. Your breath hitches a little as the game starts and he undoes the button of your jeans.

As much as you’d like to tell yourself that you aren’t paying attention to him, or at least that you’re paying more attention to the game than to him, that simply isn’t true; you’re most definitely paying more attention to him, even if your fingers are tapping rapidly over the buttons as you put together combo after combo. Your usually flawless player vs AI performance fucks up just enough that you notice it when his lips drag across the line between your hip and your leg, and you choke back a small whine.

You can feel his teeth dragging across your skin now, faint and blunt and human but for the canines that have at least once drawn blood. You keep your eyes up, your hands shaking slightly as you make up for the mistake with a couple of perfectly timed hits while he tugs your jeans and boxers off your skinny ass, his warm hands squeezing what little flesh there is of your rump and then your thighs. His fingers slide from your there to the insides of your thighs as you desperately mash the x button and you grit your teeth as he pushes your legs apart, nuzzling at the crook of your leg.

Your breath hitches and you try very hard to ignore the points of his shades as they graze your skin. His teeth might have to work hard to pierce you, but those don’t, so you spread your legs wider and finish another seven hits that take out a solid chunk of Scorpion’s health. You can feel his breath on you, slightly moist and definitely getting your bulges to take interest; you can feel the tips of them peeking out of your sheathe already, and you resist trying to roll your hips against his face while you finish the first round with a smirk.

The second round is marked with him dragging his tongue up the slit of your sheathe and making you shiver and writhe at the sudden coolness. He’s actually about as warm as KK, but your sheathe is so overheated that the touch is almost midblood cool, in a really good sort of way. Your hips ache a little for how far they’re spread, but his hands keep them in place, which you’re thankful for. The contrast of rough calluses and smooth, well-worn leather gloves as he rubs your legs makes a slow heat run down your body, like a warm shower under your skin. Tingles of electricity pop between your horns and around your eyes, distracting you further and forcing Sub-Zero to take way more hits than necessary in one go. You grit your teeth and snap yourself out of the undue daze, while he tongues at your sheathe and you irritably button mash to make up for lost time.

You falter again when his tongue finds your nook. Fuck, you always were a little more sensitive than usual there; you figured it’s nature’s way of making up for giving you two bulges, giving you a small nook that reacts to everything. His tongue swirls between the puffy folds, peeling them back slightly from side to side as if he were looking for something, and you stifle a whine as he stops doing that and drags the flat of his tongue up the middle.

You make the regretful decision of looking down at him and moan, because just at that moment he sticks his tongue inside of you, dragging the tip along the spot just beneath your bulges while he sucks and nibbles the outer lips. He’s got a freakishly long tongue for a human and you love it, but you’re not going to tell him that; you can’t tell him that, because your eyes just crossed and you nearly clamped your thighs around his head.

Nearly, because you ended up jabbing yourself on his shades and yelping like a wriggler. Which is a good thing you suppose, even if the pain makes your bulges unsheathe a little further because you’re a freak just like him. You make huffy little moans that you really hate yourself for as he sucks and thrusts his tongue deeper, and Sub-Zero gets killed on-screen right in front of you.

“God,” And you can’t finish that, you don’t know if you were going to say “damnit” at the end, because he’s hitched your thighs over his shoulders and started dragging his tongue along your rapidly unsheathing bulges, twisting it around them like a third bulge except much smaller. You whine and keep your eyes on the screen, but your vision keeps blurring and your nose is blocked up with the smell of ozone from all the electricity you’re giving off. You have to focus in three different places- your hands to keep fighting, your head to keep from frying everything in the room, Dirk's mouth because he won’t let you _not_  focus on it.

You breathe. You can do this. It’s the third, final round and you can still do this, although those words are starting to sound a little hollow while he tonguefucks you incoherent and stupid. He sucks on the tips of your bulges while his freak tongue plays with the sensitive skin between nook and bulge, and you think, fuck, when did he learn to eat nook like this? Is he just a natural at it?

Your hands are shaking so hard that you almost drop the controller. You do drop the controller when his head knocks it out of your hands as he gets off your nook at last, but you catch it with your psionics and grin dopily, thinking he’s about to give up and let you finish the game. “Had enough?” You slur slightly, but you feel great. Maybe a little frustrated that he didn’t make you cum before giving up, but triumphant.

“Just changing tactics.” He answers, dragging your pants off your ankles, pulling off your socks and shoes in the same movement (you have to wonder where he learned  _that_ too) and dragging you up by the front of your shirt. You wonder if he can feel an ounce of pitch for you, because while you two are just fuckbuddies, this is starting to feel a little pitch; the rush of adrenaline in your ears and the way he grapples at you, the way he’s made a contest of this.

You find yourself growling and dropping the controller again, this time to grab him and kiss him on the mouth so hard that you hear him grunt in pain. He answers that by breaking the kiss and turning you around, grabbing at your throat and squeezing hard enough to cut off your air a little. Your bulges are twisting in the open now, and you reach between your legs to tangle your fingers in them, groaning at the slick heat against your hand.

You hear the sound of him unzipping and feel his cock rubbing against your ass, hot and hard already. You wheeze, “I haven’t even touched you yet.” And make an almost-laugh at the thought, but at the same time the thought that he’s so hot and bothered just because he’s been eating you out does a lot for you. Your bulges constrict against your wrist slightly, and you twist them just a little.

He sits down with you in his lap, maneuvers a little so your nook is lined up with him and you can drag the slit across the tip. When you raise your eyes back to the screen, somehow you still have half your health for this round; you can still turn this around. He nibbles your neck and pulls your shirt up to your nipples and grubscars as you float the controller back into your hands.

“Come on, Captor, let’s see if you can do this.” He murmurs in your ear, husky and low and drawling slightly as his hands knead at your sides and the sensitive beds of your grubscars. His hands go lower and lift you slightly by the waist so he can get his cock in a better position and you moan as he starts to push in. Nooks aren’t really meant to take cocks, and the stretch burns a little, but it’s a burn you’ve come to enjoy. You tilt your head back against his shoulder and hear his breathing turn raspy as you settle onto his lap at last, and you grind your ass into him a little just to hear his breath hitch.

Much as you’d like to relax into the pace he’s set and grind on his cock until the two of you cum, you’ve got a game to win. You turn your attention to the screen, or at least most of it, because the way he’s bouncing you in his lap is really distracting, he’s not highblood huge but he’s _stiff_  and that makes him feel a lot bigger than a bulge his size would. You can feel your nook leaking and making a mess of the two of you, your bulges writhing against each other and leaving trails of slickness across your thighs and belly as he grinds his cock into the spot behind them inside of you.

You pant and lick your lips, sweat sticking your shirt to your back before he peels the loose fabric aside and bites down on your shoulder, making you keen in the back of your throat and forcing you to narrowly dodge an attack that would have lost you the round.

His fingers find your nipples and you bite your lip as he squeezes and twists them just the way you like, just the way you taught him when you two were first starting out at this. He’s gotten so good at drawing noises and squirms out of you, and oh, you’re going to get him back for this later, but right now you’re enjoying yourself too much.

“Eyes on the screen.” He murmurs, nipping at your ear. You nod in a series of quick little jerks and lean forward, trying to get the pressure behind your bulges to abate a little, but he wraps his strong arms around your waist and you cry out as he starts thrusting up into you, your eyes closing and your mouth hanging open as he fucks you hard. He growls, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine as he twists your nipples again and it hurts so good you whimper and only just stop yourself from begging for more.

Your nook is going to ache like nothing else and you know it. You spare enough concentration to spread your legs further, hooking your ankles around his calves for stability(you think this is something straight out of a porno, the pose you’re in, spread out so nicely), but he’s having none of it and he gives you another couple of hard thrusts before he stands up and repositions the two of you with your knees on the cushions.

For a moment you wonder how the hell you’re going to play like this, but it doesn’t look like he gives a damn about the game anymore when he shoves your head down and starts fucking you again. You make pained, needy little noises as he fucks you into the cushions, your hands trapped under you and the controller digging uncomfortably into your ribs. He leans over you and licks the shell of your ear, his pace punishing and unrelenting while he growls in your auriculars. “Don’t forget the game.”

“How the fuck do you exp- _nngh_ \- expect me to play like this?” You whine as he does a slow, tight circle with his hips, but he relents enough to stop pushing your head down and digs the controller out from under you. But he keeps your arms trapped against your chest, his weight on your back as he pistons in and out of your aching cunt.

“Get creative.” He purrs, and you gulp a little when he adds, “Because if you lose this round, you’re getting punished.”

It’s barely a threat, coming from him. You like it when he punishes you, but you’ve got your pride as a gamer at stake and that’s almost enough motivation for you to win this round. You turn your head and see that you’ve got less than a fourth of HP left and you swear, picking up the controller with your psionics and desperately trying to figure out how to do this.

You get a little headway on figuring out the controls without your hands when he decides to change angles and  _fuck him,_ because it’s even better like this, the way his cock jabs right into a spot you didn’t previously know you had. The controller clatters to the floor and you start making so much noise that it’s downright embarrassing, variations of “Oh God!” and “Yes!” and “Fuck yes!” spilling from your open mouth.

Your eyes roll back in your head a little when he closes his hands around your neck and starts to squeeze. You would beg for more except now you can’t breathe and you can’t speak as he rails you as hard as he can, but you do manage to squirm a hand out from under your chest and tangle your fingers in your bulges, squeezing and pumping in time to his thrusts.

He suddenly pulls out and lets go of your throat and you whine, but the whine dies in a growl as you turn around to face him, bleary-eyed with with tears and sweat from frustration and overstimulation. You were so close. “Don’t tell me you’re done already.” You whinge.

He jerks a thumb at the screen, and you take a look, and when you do your nook clenches needily again because you see a big, fat Game Over splattered across the pixels. “You know what that means.” He says, and fuck, he’s already sliding his belt out of his pants. For once you don’t mind losing a videogame, knowing what comes next.

You gulp, flushing deeply, and nod. He puts the controller back in your hands and now you’re really confused. His lip twitches up in an almost-smirk before flattening down again, and he crawls over you, his breath hot on your mouth. “I want you bent over the couch and trying to win another round while I spank you. Then I’ll fuck you until either you get another game-over or you cum twice. Sound fair?”

Your bloodpusher is thumping against your thoracic struts in the best way, your throat just a little dry as you make your way off the couch and towards the back of it. Dirk follows you with his eyes and head as usual, while you bend over the couch and pick up the controller, glancing at him. “Like this?” You ask, and he nods and stands up, walking around the couch until you can’t see him.

You feel one of his hands on the small of your back, so you know he’s behind you now as you restart the game and feel him gently dragging the flat side of the belt along your ass, the leather cool and smooth. The round starts and you brace yourself as he lifts the belt away.

That’s all the warning you get before he brings it down on your ass with a crack so loud that it stuns you a little, and then the pain comes, hot and blooming under your skin in a way that only makes your bulges twist around each other in a desperate attempt to get you off. You whimper and keep your eyes on the screen, bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out when he gives you another strike right over the first, stinging in a way that makes you shiver.

He’s good at this. Very good at this. He spanks you just slowly enough that you know he won’t deal lasting damage but fast enough that it keeps your attention effectively, even brings a few tears to your eyes and makes you cry out a little no matter how much you bite your lips swollen and sore. At this point you’re not so much trying to win the game as outlast him, rubbing your sticky thighs together to try and get just that much more friction to your nook and bulges.

“You’re _dripping._ ” He comments, pausing his strikes to swipe his fingers up some of the fluid that’s been running down your inner thighs. You would growl if you weren’t so worn thin, at the moment all you can focus on his how you’re banked again, how you can’t get off unless he touches you a little more, something, anything to get you to that edge and push you off. The smug fuck pinches your nook lips and you grind into his palm with a whine, smearing it with translucent yellow.

He wipes it off on your ass and you jerk as he smacks your nook open handed, fingers smacking into the base of your bulges at the same time, making you gasp. He does it again and again until you have to actively resist clamping your thighs around his hand every time, have to fight to keep your focus on the screen and on moving around it enough that the match doesn’t end immediately in anyone’s favor. You can’t stop yourself from moaning desperately with every slap now, from wiggling your hips from side to side while he alternates slapping your nook with his hand and smacking your ass with his belt.

It’s a little embarrassing that you finally cum when he surprises you by smacking your nook with the belt, making you  _scream_. It’s not very hard, compared to what he’d been doing to your ass, but your nook is already more sensitive than usual from his hand and your bulges were on the verge of pushing into it on their own, you were just so turned on. You moan when it’s over, sagging against the couch and panting, your legs feeling like jelly.

He smacks you hard across both cheeks and you immediately tense up. “Not done with you yet, the game ain’t even over.” He purrs, and he’s right, somehow you only lost the first round right just now, when you’d blanked out from the pleasure-pain so hard that everything had gone white for a couple of seconds.

You spare a moment to think you really are a painslut.

You glance over your shoulder when you hear Dirk dropping the belt to the floor. You can’t quite see him like this, but you can feel it when his hands start kneading your sore cheeks, making you groan softly and press back against him. Cool air tingles at the entrance to your wastechute and the sore lips of your nook, sore lips which he pinches again and even tugs at, slowly, stretching them open in a way that makes your knees shake.

“You’ve got such a cute little nook.” He muses, which is such a lame line that you’re tempted to kick him, except it somehow still makes you blush. He continues, rubbing his fingers along the seam. “I kinda want to put my dick back in here, but I think that’d probably hurt after all the abuse it’s just taken.”

“Isn’t that the point?” You pant. You’re kind of hoping he’ll make it hurt, make you scream as you cum again, make the neighbors a little worried because you’re just nasty like that. He hums and is probably sucking his lower lip between his teeth in that way he does when he’s trying to decide on something, and you press back a little more. “Come on, DK, you said this was my  _punishment._ ”

“In that case, I probably shouldn’t give you what you want, should I?” He gives your ass another open-palmed smack that makes it jiggle a little and makes you moan. “Would just encourage you to be an even worse little shit than you already are.” He handles your cheeks roughly now, gripping them tightly between his fingers as he spreads them wider, and you can feel him grinding his cock along the cleft, the shaft thick and hot as he teases you.

You grin and press back until you can feel his cock trapped between his groin and your ass, and you start to grind, enjoying the slick flesh on your taint and chutehole and the way he groans deeply, a rumbling sound deep in his throat and chest. “You want it just as bad as I do.”

“Never said I didn’t.” He stills your hips with his hands, but he doesn’t stop grinding. You hear the sound of something popping open and being squeezed, and then you feel cool fingers rubbing over your chutehole.

You shiver and widen your stance. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, to hell with whether he’s actually smirking or not. “I take it you’ve done some stuff back here before?”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t?” For one, your chute is better made for taking something human than your nook is, and you’re eager to introduce him to some of your favorite toys one of these days if he’s alright with sharing. For now, you switch your attention back to the tv and suppress another full-bodied shiver of delight as he finally pushes a finger in. “Crook it a little, nngh, _fuck, yes,_ just like that…”

You’ve lost a solid chunk of health paying attention to him, so you make up for it by cutting down your opponent’s a little further and keeping whatever he’s doing back there as far in the back of your mind as you can. Which isn’t far, because he’s

good with those fingers of his; you moan every time he pushes them just a little bit deeper, close your eyes and arch your back when he pushes in a second and scissors them.

“Mmm, yeah, you’ve definitely had a few things back here before.” He hums as he stretches you and you bounce what little ass you have on his hand. He squirts more lube into you, cold and a little weird feeling but not unpleasant, before he starts thrusting his fingers to match your bouncing and you hear the slick sounds of his other hand lubing up his cock.

“Come on, before my bulges shrivel up and fall off.” You tap out some evasive maneuvers and then gasp when he takes hold of your ass and pushes all the way in, no preamble, no gentleness, just shoves it in there like an animal. “Ohh,  _fuck."_

You don’t regret it.

He groans deeply again and holds for a moment, stretching you out so full it makes your knees shake, but then he starts to move- pulls out almost all the way and presses back in slowly, surprisingly slow for how rough his entry was, and you realize that even now he’s teasing you and you whine.

“Come on…” You grind your hips in a circle but then he stops you and keeps going at his maddening pace, your toes curling on the threadbare carpet as he does so. He doesn’t answer except to squeeze your ass around his cock tighter in a way that makes him feel that much bigger, answers your grinding by using short, hard thrusts that only serve to frustrate you further.

“Are you just bad at this or are you being an asshole?” You growl at last, looking back at him, and he looks at you over his shades with the faintest twitch of a smile under his eyes. You get the time to lick your lips before your eyes go wide and electricity bounces along your spine as he pulls out nearly all the way and shoves back in deep.

The pace is brutal now, rocking the couch under you and forcing so much noise out of you that it’s embarrassing; you’ve closed your eyes, your mouth hanging open as he fucks you and your bulges twist against each other so tightly it almost hurts. You move your hips back against him, your ass aching with every slap of skin on skin and it only turns you on more, you’re so close.

“Eyes on the screen.” It’s less a suggestion and more a command, breathless, tinged with desperation. You look up and your bloodpusher nearly stops because your character’s nearly out of health, so even with him fucking your pan out you scramble to add as many hits to the other guy as you can and then start avoiding everything he throws at you. You whine as he leans over and bites your shoulder again, leaving a matching mark to the other one and oh fuck, yes, he’s got a hand on your bulges now, twining them between his fingers and around his wrist, squeezing and jerking and digging his fingers into the base.

Your eyes keep crossing and you can feel drool sliding down your chin, can feel the heat of him on your back and his teeth digging into your shoulder so hard you know there will be a bruise. You can feel your empty nook squeezing and dripping as if it had a bulge stuffed in it, your ass squeezing around him as he pounds you; can feel his breath heavy on your ear and his free hand clawing at your side with blunted nails, you’re nearly there.

You hit your orgasm with another scream; this time you peak bone-deep and long, your eyes rolling back and all your hair standing on end from the electricity you just gave off. It probably hurt Dirk a little, but as wetness splashes down your legs from your nook and across the back of the couch from your bulges, you feel him go still inside you and spill his own load, smaller, but sizeable for a human. Heat spreads from your belly outwards, and you start to purr.

He pulls out, and you’re a bit disappointed when he leaves you there sticky and achey, but you’re still feeling too fucked out and content to care. He comes back with a bottle of something before you can peel yourself off the couch though, and he stills you with a bare hand on the small of your back.

“What now?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow up at him. You hear Game Over and your eyebrow goes higher. “I just lost and you fucked me to orgasm twice, this isn’t part of the deal. Let me up, the couch is gonna get sticky soon.”

“Proper BDSM protocol.” He answers, uncapping the bottle and squeezing lotion onto his hand. “Aftercare is totally part of the deal, and I think I’m more concerned about my fuckbuddy’s condition than the couch. Who knows what else this couch has absorbed besides troll jizz anyway?”

He has a point, and you won’t deny that it feels nice when he rubs the lotion on the sore marks he left on your ass, so you stop complaining and let him finish rubbing the stuff on you until the sting has turned to a dull, distant ache. Sitting is still going to be a pain, but not an unbearable one at least.

He finally lets you peel yourself off the couch and urges you to drink some water, eat a few crackers, and once that’s done, to sit with him on the part of the couch he hasn’t draped a towel over. It’s nice, you have to admit. You drape yourself across his lap like a pet, letting your bare ass cool off for a while, and the two of you switch the tv back to some show or another and pretend to watch.

“Same time next week?” You ask, pushing your glasses up your nose.

“Same time next week.” He answers, and flips the channel.


End file.
